


Rituals

by rythmicjea



Series: Plums and Mugs [2]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Happy Memories, Pocket timeline, post 4x13, qualice, queliot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 20:10:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18556957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rythmicjea/pseuds/rythmicjea
Summary: Alice gets a job and Eliot wears vests again.





	Rituals

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure if I was going to continue this story. The first part is totally a stand alone piece. This, in retrospect, is too. That's why they aren't chapters. But this little thing started out fluffy. I wanted a nice little happy fic to combat the drudgery most of the fandom is experiencing right now. However, it just wouldn't let me end where I originally wanted it to. I hope you enjoy.

_Alice dragged the wand through her short lashes. The black mascara made them longer and darker than they were naturally. Quentin’s arms were warm around her waist. He wasn’t strong like Penny or dwarfing like Eliot, but he was solid. She wanted to melt into his arms and let the world slip away._

_It was the beginning of midterms and Alice and Quentin had been studying non-stop. Almost every night they had fallen asleep with books open and papers strewn about, still dressed in the clothes of that day, Quentin’s head in Alice’s lap with her fingers tangled in his long locks. With everything going on around them, it was surprising that they had time to take school seriously._

_Alice was brought back to the present by the bite at the base of her neck. “Quentin…” she hissed._

_“Come on Vix…” he egged on with a mischievous smile._

_“We can’t…” Alice said regretfully. She stood herself up straight and continued with putting on her makeup._

_Taking the hint he kissed where he had bitten her. “Okay,” he whispered and held his hands up and started to get dressed._

_Alice was going through her notes mentally when he broke her concentration with a stuttering “hey”. She raised an eyebrow patiently. “I’m going to touch your butt.”_

_Alice giggled. “What? Why?”_

_“Because I like your butt!” And then he landed a smack on her right side. She loudly gasped in surprise and his arm was quickly around her waist again, his other hand resting where he had struck her. Alice’s eyes were wild. That… was something to come back to once midterms were over… or during. “Vix… Did I hurt you?” Quentin became concerned._

_“N-nope…” She shook her head enthusiastically a blush filling her cheeks and ears. He kissed her temple locking eyes with her in the mirror, a smile on his face, before pulling away to continue gathering his papers._

_Just before Quentin could slip his messenger bag over his head, Alice slipped her hands into his back pockets and squeezed. It was a rare moment of playfulness from her. “Oh… hey. Woah. Wh-what are you…?”_

_“I like your butt,” she grinned broadly._

_The two of them walked to their respective classes, Alice’s hand in Quentin’s back pocket and Quentin’s hand on Alice’s ass. The couple continued throughout the week becoming part of their ritual. Alice passed each test with ease and Quentin did better than expected, a smile on his face and the two relaxing into each other’s touch after each exam._

_Once, again while Alice was putting on her mascara, she felt him bump into her and just sway his hips from side to side, his butt rubbing against hers. An outsider might assume she would get angry and scold him. Instead, she squealed in laughter, demanding to know his intention. “I’m just touching butts!” he exclaimed._

_She pushed her own butt against him making him stumble and plant face down on the bed. He had flipped over by the time she straddled him, pinning his hands above his head. “That... Is **not** how we ‘touch butts’, Quentin.” He loved it when she put on her schoolmarm voice._

_Even after the betrayal and the drama and the stress neither could go into any risky situation without “touching butts”. They thought they were being slick about it. Sometimes one would give the other a wordless look and they would sneak off together for a few minutes as their foreheads pressed against each other and hands found their natural resting places. Other times, Quentin would feel the slip of Alice’s small hand or Quentin would give Alice a look with his puppy dog brown eyes and she would shift to give him permission._

_Quentin would have never admitted it to Eliot, when they were in Fillory, but the times when he needed to be alone, because of the stress of the mosaic, he was really yearning for Alice’s touch. He never let Eliot get that close outside of the bedroom. Quentin had been washing dishes when Eliot came up behind him and slipped his hands under Q’s waistband. It took him a moment to register who was behind him. The hands were too big and calloused to be Alice’s and when he realized it wasn’t Alice he made a hasty and stuttering exit. It was one of the events that made him realize they might never leave._

_They truly thought it was their own little thing and everyone was oblivious to it. When Margo had walked by calling them out on it before their trip to the mirror realm, the two of them startled. Quentin had loved and lost more than just Alice but he always came back to her. She could soar higher than he ever imagined and Quentin knew that if he didn’t tether himself to her rocket no force in the universe could keep her grounded when she got lost within her own brain. At Alice’s grin his heart swelled. It was the same smile she gave him when first reciprocated their ritual. Quentin kissed her with all the love in his heart._

***

Alice fussed with the scarf Eliot had given her. She wasn’t exactly sure how he wanted her to wear it. Her pencil skirt and button-up sweater were all in grey scale. The only piece of color that remained was her red framed glasses. She didn’t hear the thump of the cane come down the hall and nearly jumped out of her skin when Eliot made his greeting. He leaned against the frame, his cane hand looked like it was perched lazily on the stick but Alice knew that he still required it to keep himself steady.

“Come here.” Eliot beckoned and Alice followed without hesitation. He took the scarf and with quick hands tied it in a most French way. “I can’t very well let you go looking like you’re one of them now can I?” Though the sweater was buttoned to the very top, the draping of the scarf gave the illusion that the neckline was much lower. They had argued more times about her neckline than either one of them could have recounted. Her modest vintage costume was a contradiction to his colorful ensemble. His vests and cravats were back and he was looking every part the dashing dandy.

She offered her arm to Eliot and they slowly made their way down the living room. Today was Alice’s first day at The Library. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to be doing or whether she was going to be doing it for very long. She adamantly refused to sign a contract knowing she had all of the bargaining power. “You’ll be fine. You always are. There was never an academic pursuit you couldn’t conquer, Alice the Wise.” He leaned in with his cheeky smile at the title he’d given her. It felt like forever that he’d crowned her on that beach. “You have your coin?”

“Yes. I don’t expect I’ll be there for longer than a day. And if you need any help-” Alice began.

“I know,” Eliot took her by the shoulders, cutting her off. “If you’re home in time for dinner then I'll know something went wrong,” he chided.

Alice pressed a hand to her stomach, taking a breath. Usually she would ball her hands into fists and jut her chin out, instead Eliot had to lift it to his gaze. “It’s just… I’ll be tempted-”

“I know.” He cut her off again, softer this time with a lifetime of poise behind him. “And that’s why you’re going down there; but, patience young padawan. If I taught you how to drink I can teach you tantric.” Alice curled a lip in revolting confusion. “Oh please, you know it’s a synonym for patience.” He chided her again.

Shaking her head she mumbled an apology as he turned her towards the portal. The last time she’d gone through this particular portal was the last time she and Quentin had done their ritual. They stood behind everyone, her hand in his back pocket, his on her right cheek. She paused before stepping through, waiting for that familiar touch of his warm hand but none came. 

“You’re waiting, aren’t you?” The unspoken 'for him' hung in the air. It was the only way Eliot could keep the jealousy and condemnation out of his voice. The pair hadn't talked much about Q. Not even to really reminisce. When a Librarian came looking for Alice to convince her to take a job with them was the first time they had spoken his name aloud. Alice nodded, both hands pressed to her stomach gauging her breathing. She felt his large and strong hands on his shoulders. His voice was soft and commanding. Reminding her of the mission. "If you stand there waiting forever, then we won't get the chance to get him back."

With a final nod, Alice stepped out of the embrace, flashed the Dewey, and was gone.


End file.
